


The Beast You've Made of Me

by Mnemos9



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Dean, Drama, EPIC PORN, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Hell Flashbacks, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple kinks, Panic Attacks, Porn, Rough Oral Sex, Sex on the Impala, Smut, Struggle, Supernatural Affliction, Top Castiel, based off a tumblr prompt, incubus, partially clothed, post 9x03, pre 9x11, rough anal sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemos9/pseuds/Mnemos9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas finds Dean bound to the headboard of a motel room, where the corpse of an incubus that suspiciously resembles the angel lies on the floor. They take off, but Dean refuses to talk about what happened. Incubi toxin pumps through his veins while Cas spends the drive reconsidering their relationship. The toxin takes its' hold as Dean begins to panic and Cas beseeches him to pull over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beast You've Made of Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silvereyesandboloties](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvereyesandboloties/gifts).



> This spawned out a tumblr prompt laid forth by [cookieswithcrowley](http://cookieswithcrowley.tumblr.com/), which is also the first sentence.

Castiel wasn’t entirely sure that he knew why Dean was wearing the white garter, but he knew that he enjoyed it more than he should.  The cool tingling vibrations that traveled across the exterior of one of the Large Hadron Collider pipes disappeared from beneath his fingertips the second Cas heard him. Upon arrival it was immediately apparent that the decision to call the angel had been made out of desperation.

“A little help here, Cas!” The hunter’s mouth and chin were drenched with blood and viscera the color of amethyst. The angel’s gaze flitted downwards to the starkly contrasting garter wrapped snug around his upper thigh. Castiel’s breath hitched, and he forced his attention to the rest of scene. It didn’t help with the unnatural heat that was curling downwards from his stomach. He willed it away with difficulty.

Intricately knotted magenta ropes ensnared Dean’s forearms to the headboard, effectively securing him in place. In frustration, he kicked one of the sealed single-use packets of personal lubricant from the bed, where it landed quietly at Cas’ feet.  Apart from mismatched socks, the pristine garter, a formerly plain white t-shirt now saturated with purplish fluid, and a grimace of extreme mortification-his friend was nude. It took greater effort than it should have to keep his eyes on the man’s face. Fortunately there was no alarming concentration of Dean’s blood in the air, but there could still be internal injuries.

“What happened, Dean?” The hunter’s jaw clenched. He jerked his head in the direction of the humanoid creature in a similar state of undress that lay mostly on the floor.

One leg was still loosely hooked over the bedside and its’ throat had been ripped open.  The impressive mouthful Dean had torn out was splattered on the sheets and floor. Judging by the creature’s temperature it had been dead for several minutes. Cas stared down at the thing and curiously inhaled the air, tasting its’ blood. It had been a _very_ long time since he’d encountered this scent.

“Cas, so help me, if you don’t get these friggin’ ropes-“ The angel snapped his fingers absently and Dean uttered a word of relief as he clambered to his feet.

The momentum he exerted knocked the corpse’s leg to the rapidly staining carpet with a soft thud. Cas stooped beside it as Dean scrambled around the room for his clothing. In appearance, the body was that of a man in the same age group as Dean, who brushed past the angel on his way to the bathroom. The body was athletic but not brawny. All lean muscle and sharp angles. His features suggested Eurasia and his irises would have scintillated like glacial ice in life. Cas waited for a break in the hunter’s intensive rinsing regimen before speaking.

“This is an incubus.” The realization must have colored his words, judging by Dean’s reaction.

Returning from the bathroom with a washed face, he snatched his shoes up and flung himself into a seated position on the bed.  A slight tint still colored the skin around his lips and down his throat. He wouldn't look at Cas.

“It _was_ , _”_ the hunter grunted as he pulled on a boot. “Now it’s compost.” he laced it with more force than was necessary and shrugged on his green coat. “You comin’ or not?” Dean’s voice rose as he did.

They exited the motel with a pace that would have had Cas struggling to keep up if he were human. He’d left many crime scenes with this man in haste, but something was different. It was like he was fighting the urge to leave Castiel behind too, which was just as maddeningly confusing as the rest of this situation.

“The body…” Cas said to Dean’s back as the hunter waved a hand in assent.

Incubi decomposed quickly and this one was already beginning to smell when Cas returned for it. A stretch of road barely outside the county line would not typically serve as a burial site, but right now discretion wasn’t his priority. The instant the angel landed in the Impala’s passenger seat, Dean took off. Cas caught the door before it could swing wide, latching it as they veered out into traffic. The elder Winchester disregarded driving etiquette altogether as he sped up to cut off several other cars. It earned them numerous angry responses from the motorists he left in their wake. Over the din of rush hour, a woman in the mini-van behind them bellowed a curse and Dean stuck his head out the window to retaliate.

“Bite me, bitch!” The frustrated (and most likely) frightened mother was simply a casualty of Dean's vitriol.

Cas glanced over to see the driver’s hands clenching and releasing the wheel while his thumb traced strange patterns across its’ surface. He suspected the motions were meant to be self-assuring but from the looks of it were not very effective. Dean swerved in and out of lanes with reckless abandon while the angel sat in silence beside him. He didn’t fear for the man’s life; the driver was perfectly in control of his vehicle despite one’s first assumption. It was his mental and resultant physical state that had Castiel concerned.

Incubi and succubae were very similar to sirens but far less interested in emotional manipulation than their cousin.  They took less joy in the chase, preferring a swift meal to an inflated sense of hubris. Consequently, this made them difficult to catch and more often than not their pursuers would arrive only to find the cooling corpses of their victims. Their toxin was designed to hit the target fast and hard; bombarding the hormone receptors to stir the victim into an aggressive, almost pained arousal. Dean had disposed of the incubus before it had a chance to inject a lethal dosage, but Castiel could still smell the toxin pumping through the man’s bloodstream.

“What?!” A visual appraisal of his friend’s visible body was difficult due to his over-abundance of layers.

“I was checking for physical injury but you seem to be fine.” Dean scoffed, his eyes fixed on the road as it lead them out of town.

Rolling down the window, he spat a chunk of the incubi’s flesh out that had become dislodged from between molars.  He gave no verbal answer in response to Castiel’s inquiring statement but began to chew on his lower lip as if considering something. Cas watched him shake his head a fraction of an inch and listened as he breathed out a barely audible ‘nah’. The angel wasn’t entirely sure that the other was aware of having spoken aloud, or what he might have been debating internally.

The silence stretched on, alternating between an oppressive force and something that reminded Castiel of standing atop Mount Etna as its' first eruption had seethed beneath the surface. For once, it didn't seem to have occurred to Dean to turn the radio on. Or maybe the unspoken thing stifling the air between them was too loud to drown out with music. Cas yearned to be of whatever assistance he could be to his friend but he also hungered for answers. And those answers would have to be dragged from Dean's stubborn mouth.

"Where's Sam?" In the confusion of the past twenty-three minutes, the older brother had dominated Castiel's focus.

"Probably halfway down that librarian's throat by now." Dean grimaced bitterly and swore under his breath. "I'll circle back for him later,” he exhaled heavily. “He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.” The man’s heart was rallying against his ribcage; Cas could hear it.

Every resounding beat cycled the toxin through Dean's body. It was clear that the hunter was struggling from the effects, which was something Castiel really couldn't think too much about. He began to open his mouth but was cut off as Dean held up a finger and shot him an icy scowl.

“ _Don’t_ ask me what happened again.”

Managing the request was extremely difficult. The damnable silence continued and the angel’s thoughts kept drifting in a direction he was so accustomed to fighting that now it came as second nature. Rays of the setting sun filtered through dense timber along the highway but he kept _seeing_ the incubus on Dean-touching him intimately. Kissing him. Waves of crimson flashed inside Cas' head and he felt as if the Earth itself was tilting beyond his gravity. Dean's pants had been removed. Did that mean…?

The elder Winchester’s reputation placed him as a womanizer among many other things. It was clear that homoerotic implications made him extensively uncomfortable. Sam often accused his brother of ‘over-compensating’, which usually resulted in a visibly affronted Dean hurling back a responsive comment regarding Sam's sexual orientation. Sometimes when this happened he would look at Cas and frown at him as if the (apparently) offensive words had come from _his_ mouth instead of Sam’s. Occasionally Dean would follow up the exchange with an unnecessary explanation of brotherly jesting.

As Cas avoided looking at him in the present, he tried not to dwell on certain perplexing moments in their history that should be left just as they were-a misunderstanding on the angel’s part of the nuances of human behavior. However, the monster in the motel had suspiciously resembled Castiel’s vessel. For it truly was his now; Jimmy’s soul having been Heaven-sent nearly the instant the angel had taken on the mantle of God. But the physical similarity couldn’t mean anything, surely. Dean had never given any indication…but he _smelled_ like the thing. There _had_ been kissing for certain, he could smell traces of it on Dean's breath. The sweet scent lingered but Castiel couldn’t tell if there had been any penetration. The thought of that occurrence did abnormal things to his stomach and sparked a sudden rage that was snuffed out only with great difficulty.

"Did you have intercourse with him?” The fact that he didn't expect the question to go over smoothly didn't stop him from asking it.

“ _It_ , Cas! _It_ was an it!” The highway ended, road sloping down to wind through patches of Coniferous woods teeming with the life of Summer.

“Unlike sirens, incubi cannot change their gender-they will always be _male_.” And they took on the likeness of what their targets found to be most alluring.

“ _No_! I didn’t have sex with _him_ then, _happy_?”

"Dean, you’re beginning to hyperventilate.” A storm of emotions warped the man’s features as he shook.

“I KNOW!” Dean punched the roof, breathing much harder and faster than was advisable. Cas scanned the surrounding area, squinting through the dense foliage.

“There’s a vacated street approximately two-hundred eighty feet from here. _Pull over_.” Castiel let the authority of a Seraph resound in the last two words. He really did expect Dean to challenge him and was unprepared for the curt nod he received.

The angel mimicked the breathing exercises for Dean he’d seen the Winchesters use on survivors in their care. And yet, the hunter's panic only seemed to increase; bloodless fists clenched and tremoring on the wheel as if his life depended on it. He pushed down on the accelerator, grinning strangely and letting out a small ‘hah’ as they sped on. When the street became visible to Dean, he made the turn at 55 mph. He brought it down to 40 as they passed three foreclosed and vacated houses at the end. The asphalt cut off abruptly, undisturbed soil extending into overgrown walking trails that spiraled into the thicket outlined by the gloaming. He pulled up to the clearing, hood pointing towards the grove. Any inhabitants of the forest had long since fled at the roar of their approach. Dean cut the engine and wrenched the door open. He hadn't bothered with a seatbelt upon entering the vehicle and would have fallen if Castiel hadn’t caught him.

“Get off," Dean panted as he pushed himself away from Cas. Losing his balance, he toppled over onto the gravel before rolling himself up onto his knees. "Don't....ah-don't..."  His shaking hands worked to free himself of his customary jacket and flannel over-shirt.

Hurling the excess layers to the ground, Dean rubbed the sweat from his brow and started to knead at his chest. Eyes screwed shut, he tried to catch his breath, which came in short ragged gasps that pierced the angel's breast with serrated edges. Cas had knowledge of panic attacks by now, but poor experience in dealing with them. Most of what he knew about human behavior and interaction he had learned from the Winchesters and the company they kept. How many times had he seen the brothers take the extra moments to comfort a traumatized rescue-where he himself would not have understood the hysterical response or seen a need to address it? If Cas followed their example, he was supposed to project a calm visage, speak slowly and choose his words carefully. If possible hold and reassure the person using a series of soft noises and comforting motions drawn across the back. That latter option seemed infeasible as Dean wouldn't even look at him. Watching this painful transformation come over his friend while drowning in his own _impotence_ was on par with the tortures of Heaven's most creative artisans.

"Dean, you have to slow your breathing." Apparently it was the wrong thing to say.

The man stood quickly, swaying and fumbling behind him for the car door. Forgetting that it had been thrown open, he caught the frame to steady himself.

Glaring down the angel as he had that night in the barn when they first met, Dean growled “ _Fuck off_.” It was the primal snarl reserved for the hunter's true enemies; the ones who had managed to take something dear from him. It confused and hurt Cas, whose fists balled at his sides as he advanced.

“I will not _fuck off_ when you are being so adversely affected by the creature’s toxin.” Dean stilled.

“Can you get rid of it?” Castiel inhaled sharply, meeting his burning gaze.

“The toxin has bonded with your blood and the amount I would need to purge-”

“Do it!” He barked out the command in a tone that brought back echoes of Raphael on the battlefields of his youth. Cas blinked and took a single step forward.

“-would be fatal and I am unwilling to risk it.” Dean’s moan turned into a wordless shout of anguish before he rounded on Cas, eyes burning with a deadly promise. What exactly that was a promise _of_ was something even the hunter seemed unsure of.

“Then _leave_ , Cas.” The angel stood his ground and replied calmly

"No." Dean repelled himself off the car, advancing on the angel and shoving him hard in the chest, even if they both knew how futile the gesture was.

"WHY?" Dean's increased efforts were as effective as pushing a mountain. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!" His voice broke, eyes gleaming with pain in the fading light. "You're always just _standing there_ with this idiotic blank expression on your face!" The efforts to hold that expression were crumbling as rapidly as Dean was. “Do you feel sorry for me, is that it?!” Ironically, pity was one of the last emotions he associated with the man who was frenziedly assailing him like a cornered beast.

"Dean-" The other grit his teeth, beating an ineffectual fist against Castiel's torso.

"NO! You stand there and you're so damn...ahhh..." Tears began to stream down his cheeks as he seethed, hitting Cas again and again. "CALM! Even now when I'm yelling at you for no damn reason!" Castiel could only stand there, absorbing Dean's blows while attempting to rein in his own racing heartbeat.

"Nothin' else going on in the entire fucking Universe-you gotta constantly be tuned into the _freak show_ that is my life? Don't you have some bees to watch or something?" There was an audible crack when his next punch landed but it didn’t seem to deter Dean in the slightest. "The fuck do you even care? What does my _existence_ even matter to you, huh?! Does it even come out to a whole minu-“

The familiar pang that wracked through the angel's core at the reminder of Dean's mortality pushed his physical body into motion. Suddenly he had the hunter's arms pinned to his sides. Cas' blood thundered in his ears and the responsive quickening of Dean's pulse danced under the feverish flesh of his biceps. Red-rimmed eyes widened as he scanned Cas’ face. The man was completely rigid, breath caught between lungs. He was a disturbingly erotic sight like this and for the umpteenth time, the fact that Castiel even made that association shamed him like nothing else. Belatedly, he healed the beating Dean’s hands had suffered from their owner’s turmoil.

“I am bound to you, Dean.” Attempting to hold the hunter’s erratic gaze, Cas carefully allowed just a sliver of his devotion into his countenance. He didn’t trust in his voice to deliver such sentiment subtly. “As an ally, a friend, a… _brother_.” He squeezed Dean’s arm for emphasis on the last word, who stared at the angel as if he had spoken the words in Enochian. For a moment Cas wondered if he had.

" _Your_ existence means more to me than the existence I have known since the birth of this Planet," Dean swallowed and Cas' focus flicked helplessly to his sweat-dappled Adam's Apple. In this moment, the angel understood the need for prayer all too well as he forced his eyes back to Dean’s.

“You, Sam and I have changed Destiny for the better. And worse," he huffed a small laugh. "I’ve done deplorable things with the intention of protecting you." The glint of self-flagellation in Dean’s abnormally wide pupils would only shine brighter with what Cas had to say, but it was necessary to make his point. "I have warped my being irreparably and will continue to do so if the circumstances require it." Dean visibly flinched.

"And thought I do regret _many_ of my actions," he inhaled before continuing. “I still believe that my motivations were just.” Dean was frozen in place, transfixed by the rare moment of total and brutal honesty between them. "Because _you_ are the family that I chose." Jaw set and tendons coiled with tension, the hunter was clearly preparing to strike. Castiel simply smiled. "I will always choose you, Dean. Which is why I won't abandon you without a _damn_ good reason."

Dean caught the angel off guard as he surged forward. Practically slapping Castiel’s cheeks in his haste to take hold of them, the man clashed their teeth together when he kissed him. Dazedly, Cas felt his body reciprocating; mouthing at chapped yet unbelievably yielding lips. He picked up a hint of the incubus but fortunately the flavor of Dean was much stronger. Reaching up to brush soft skin at his pounding temple, Cas felt Dean’s fingers raking a path through his hair. The motion sent blissful, numbing waves across nerve endings he was barely aware of. When Dean licked at his lips, they parted automatically to allow access for his tongue, which came to life in the angel’s mouth-seeking out every inch of him it could taste. He devoured it in turn. The hunger Castiel had been sedating so heavily was awake now and scorching him from the inside out. The hunter growled into his mouth, hand drifting from the angel’s head. He began to venture lower, fingers gliding down Cas’ front and passing over his stomach. The shock was enough to break Cas from the trance Dean’s bodyheld over him.

Every ounce of willpower he possessed was just barely enough to separate the two of them, but Cas was successful in shoving Dean hard enough to send him back. He bounced off the Impala, which creaked in protest and for once Dean didn't seem to give a damn about his car. Somehow breathless, Castiel gaped at his dearest friend, who was panting and righting his stance. He was appraising the angel as if he were edible.

"Son of a bitch," Dean locked his hands into his sweat-slicked hair, tilting his head back while grinning wickedly at a dumbfounded Cas. " _You_ kissed back." Bending over, Dean smacked his thigh and let out a triumphant 'hah'! when he straightened up. Less than a minute ago, the man had been raging against him and now he was closing the gap between them, looking at Cas as if he were one of the hunter's many female conquests.

Castiel held up a hand and stuttered out a protest before realizing _that_ was Enochian. "Wait, just…” Words wouldn’t come. “Wait!" His brain had shut off. It was similar to the prolonged state of madness Purgatory had cleansed him of. Absurdly enough, images of bees flashed through his mind. Then it passed and the one human who had come to mean more than him than _anything_ else was looking at him like _that_. "This..this can't-“

"Why not?" Dean pushed himself up against Cas, who gulped and held him at a distance. Frustration edging his voice, the hunter inclined his head into the angel's space so that mere inches separated them. "We've been at this whole 'will they', 'won't they' TV-drama _crap_ for years and I'm callin' it." His eyes shone with a manic lust that went straight to Cas' groin. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on Dean's bare arm. If the low rumble that issued from deep within his chest was any indicator, it had been taken as encouragement.

"Dean, the incubi's toxin is affecting you very strongly," he scoffed at Cas, flashing a hint of incisors. "It will be difficult but you _must_ fight it!" Dean shook his head, leering wantonly at the angel without any hint of restraint. He was clearly losing the battle against the drug but how much longer could Castiel possibly keep fighting for the both of them?

"You know _allllll_ about those things, Cas.” Dean made another noise drenched in sex as he tried to move closer. It hit Cas harder than his fists ever could. “You even saw him. Hell, in the car you were practically ripping my head off about it. Figure of speech-coulda swore I’ve said it around you before." He added at the mortified look on Castiel's face. "Well I'm talking about it now." His inflection momentarily dropped off into something so tender that it shook the angel’s resolve.

He maneuvered Cas' grip on him easily, bringing the angel's arms around his back. Dean’s hands seemed unusually drawn to Cas' face and all the angel could think of was how badly he wanted to feelhis touch everywhere.  They were standing on that volcanic summit together now and Cas had no idea if either one would survive the inferno. But the flames were already engulfing them, and they were impossible to extinguish now. Not that he wanted to, if he was completely honest.

"He looked like you cuz I _wanted_ him to.” The blunt sincerity in Dean’s voice sent a roiling surge of heat from Castiel’s breast that serpentined its way past the pit of his stomach and straight into his rapidly forming erection. "If Sam had been there he woulda stopped me," Dean’s hold was fierce, fingers grasping at the fabric of his coat. “but I just heard him talking from across the bar and he looked so much like you…” he trailed off, drawing their bodies closer. “Well, not _you_ I guess but…,” he gulped, tracing his thumb over the angel’s cheekbone “but none of that matters now cuz you're here." Dean’s lips hovered in front of Cas' own as their shuddering breath coalesced. "You're finally here, Cas." His pitch climbed almost to a whine on the statement. “And you want this just as badly as I do.” Castiel evaded the lips he wanted to kiss so passionately with terrible struggle.

“When you regain your senses, you will regret whatever transpires between us,” he inhaled sharply, the fear of it reducing his voice to a whisper that Dean had to lean in to make out. “You’ll exile me from your ‘ _freak-show of a life_ ’ and strike me from your memory.” He made air quotes and Dean pressed a soft kiss to his lips that went unchallenged this time.

"Never." With a roll of his hips, Dean prodded Cas' leg with his alarmingly stiff sex and the angel gasped involuntarily. This couldn’t be real, Dean would never…Gloating didn’t begin to cover the look he was giving Cas. " _This_ is cuz of you. 'S always cuz of you." His voice dropped to a primal bass that vibrated deep inside of Cas’ marrow as the man bucked outwards again. He only narrowly managed to avoid the gyration.

"What? You,” Every sense the angel possessed was burning with Dean's presence. It was overwhelming. “You can’t mean that?" It was meant to be a declaration but came out as more of a plea.

Desperation of a different kind bled from Cas’ tone. His own hardness was making it extraordinary difficult to think. Every celestial fiber inside of him was hopelessly caught in the pull of those lust-hooded jade orbs. The hunter laughed softly, the corners of his mouth upturning into that maddeningly self-satisfied smirk.

"I can't even jerk it to chicks anymore, man." Cas didn't even realize how hard he was breathing until Dean rutted out again, this time connecting with the angel’s crotch. He gasped, mouthing wordlessly as he clawed so hard into Dean’s shoulder that the human winced. ‘Pulling his punches’ wasn’t usually this challenging.

“Fuck yeah.” Dean mumbled, pressing their groins together. “I try, but even in the sack I can't-ahhh-" He bit his lip, brows knitting together as Cas experimentally rubbed against him. The pleasure was so intense that he may have whimpered; it was difficult to be sure. Either way, the hunter was staring at the angel as if he had never seen him clearly before.

"I can't help it, I see you everytime I cum." Cas hardened even more-if possible-at these words. So much that it _hurt_. It felt like it wouldn’t stop hurting until Dean touched him there.

Even if his previous action had been well-received, the angel was anxious to make another. Any second the toxin would abate and then Dean would pull back, regarding Castiel with horror and disgust. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

“You’re thinking too much.” With deliberate slowness, the hunter rolled his hips again-lips parting as a quiet murmur of arousal passed from them.

Cas gyrated against him, unable to resist leaning into the physical heat that was steadily building between them. The other became a livewire in his grip, coming at him again to catch his lips as thought they were magnetized. His tongue snaked eagerly into Cas’ yearning mouth as Dean slipped the angel’s coat off. He made sure to linger over the shoulders of the suit jacket, thumbs caressing the starched material as if it were an extension of Cas’ skin. The motions made Cas shudder and moan into Dean’s mouth. Then that layer was peeled away too, leaving Castiel in his shirt with a sensation of exposure that was equal parts terror and exhilaration. He was thankful for the tie’s absence right now.

“Hmmmnn,” Dean stroked his pectorals through the thin fabric with one hand. The other went to work undoing the buttons with the swiftness of a predator about to sink his fangs into a well-earned meal. He broke the kiss to whisper against Cas’ lips “I’ve wanted you for so long, Cas, it’s been frickin’ unbearable.” He understood all too well. Pulling further back to cup Castiel’s face in his palms, Dean’s eyes widened as he gazed at his friend earnestly. “This time, have faith in me, alright? Please?”

He interrupted Dean’s progress with the buttons, pulling the hunter in as close as he could to resume ‘making out’. Because that wasdefinitely _Dean_ speaking to him. And that was _his_ tongue licking over Cas’ teeth. Those were _his_ hands groping at Cas and that was his _reassurance_ prodding Cas’ cock.

He felt delirious, as if his vessel might explode or implode or simply melt into nothing under the pressure that was threatening to undo the angel. His hands fumbled along every inch of the hunter he could reach. Castiel still remembered the density of every bone. The latticed-pattern of every nerve woven into overlapping layers of muscle.  The constellations of every freckle and birth mark that dotted Dean’s flesh.  But this was different than re-building him. He could almost hear every cell screaming with need as his hands found their way beneath the ruined t-shirt. Fingers traced the length of his spine before returning to the planes of his shoulder blades and traversing his lower back. The geography of Dean’s body was finally his to explore intimately; hands eagerly mapping out the surface of his stomach, the dip of his sternum and the complexities of his collarbone. He came to rest over the curvature of his left pectoral where the pounding piston of Dean’s heart sang out to him. 

Cas knew how sloppy and inexperienced his actions were but he didn’t care. In fact, the angel’s fervency only seemed to please the hunter more. Dean broke away, rubbing the side of his skull against Cas’ cheek as he fought to catch his breath. Castiel cried out Dean’s name when the man’s palm cupped his bulge, rubbing him firmly through his slacks. The man let out a shaky hiss of breath at the contact, murmuring a sentiment without words. Digging his nails in-between Dean’s ribs, Cas thrust into the searing touch.

“Dean…uhhhhhh…” There was something he wanted to say but he could barely form words at the moment. “Good, that’s…” He squeezed Cas as the angel gasped, burying his face into the hollow of Dean’s shoulder while the hunter’s other hand sought out his belt. He unbuckled it with urgency, beaming at Cas when the angel reached out to undo his.

"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet, kiddo." He was gazing at Castiel with such reverence that the angel almost stopped, suddenly feeling grossly unworthy of such a sincere expression. But then Dean reached into his pants. Knuckles grazed his navel, deft fingers sifted through the opening in his boxers and closed around his bare length. The touch surged through his entire being and for a moment everything went as black and silent as the Void. Then there was a steady grip on his shoulder and a voice that began as static before it became _his_ human's voice crooning in English

" _Daaamn_ , Cas. I always kinda thought you'd be big," he clenched the angel's member tighter, the wonder in his face apparent in his tone. "But I mean _godda—_ mn." He inhaled sharply, eyes squeezing shut in a look of immense self-discipline as Cas returned the gesture. He longed to explore that part of Dean's anatomy too but the angle was awkward. He'd have to remedy that.

"Your's is quite," he gulped, unused to the sensation of anyone touching him like that. "Impressive as well." Dean unglued his concentration from Cas' crotch to grin at him. "But I'll thank you not to say my father's name at present." The words came out in a rush of strained air. He didn’t even think that speech was possible at this point. Then again, he hadn't ever thought that taking ahold of the hunter's most intimate organ with such keen consent would be possible either.

"Right, sorr _yyyyholy_ shit do that again." He had increased his pressure on Dean's shaft and given it a good, hard stroke. Seeing how well it seemed to work, Cas obliged a second time and felt the pressure on his own increase.

" _Caaaaaas_!" Dean whined, burrowing into the crook of the angel's neck. The hunter bit at Castiel's jugular as he struck up a rhythm of his own. Cas may have cried out, it was hard to tell.

This whole scenario was as surreal as the sexual dreams he had experienced during his periods of humanity; the majority of them featuring Dean, who was increasing his pace and seemed to be fidgeting with something. As they stood on the edge of the dead end street stimulating each other, Dean shrugged his jeans down and attempted to pull a booted foot out of one of the legs. Sighing into Cas' ear as they worked each other up, he chuckled weakly and for the second time that day asked

"A little help here?" The angel did it manually this time, scooping to cup a muscular calf in his palm as he released first one limb and then the other from their restrictive bondage.

Cas was about to stand when he lifted his head and realized that he was at eye-level with Dean's prominence.  Memories of the pornography with the Pizza Man and the ghost of April bobbing her head between his legs flashed to the surface of what was left of his thoughts. Oral sex was a fairly casual act it seemed. Even men who claimed to be strictly heterosexual engaged in it with other males. So there was a chance that if (he fought off the voice that insisted _when)_ Dean did 'snap out of it', this would at least be redeemable. Deciding that it was the best possible scenario, the angel braced himself in a more stable position and took hold of Dean once more.

The other let out a quiet 'oh' of realization before Castiel pulled the foreskin back and tentatively licked Dean's head. Musky as it was- _satisfying_ was the most apt way to describe the taste. Even more so since there was _no_ trace of the incubus here. Moaning out Cas' name again, Dean’s fingers found purchase in the angel's hair as he bucked out. Reeling back slightly, Castiel swiped a wet trail around the underside, teasing the frenulum and earning a resounding shudder. The nails carding through his fringe clamped down as he progressed, coiling his tongue around the shaft and feeling the veins throb in time with Dean's racing heartbeat.

The sounds of pleasure escaping the man above him drew his attention briefly to his own neglected cock. Frustration-and something darker that his _body_ recognized but his consciousness didn’t-burned inside his gut. Cas drew his focus back to the base before lapping at the scrotum curiously. Its’ tang was distinguishable and he would have explored it more if Dean hadn't jerked his head back to where he had started.

“Suck it, Cas.” The growl was a recognizable command that agitated the strange feeling in his stomach, but he ignored it. Parting his lips instead of his jaw to take Dean’s mass inside, Cas ushered in as much of him as possible.

Making a noise that was half-way between a hiss and moan, Dean grabbed Cas behind the ears and shoved himself deeper down the angel’s throat. He hit his pharynx; causing Cas to choke and gag as his eyes began to water, but the hunter didn’t stop. He set to work quickly, panting hard as he fucked Castiel’s face, leaving him to grip onto Dean’s prickled thighs for support. He had to remind himself that breathing wasn’t necessary as Dean crammed his cock down his gullet over and over. The lewd and unmistakable sounds of the act cemented the reality of it and made Cas feel almost faint in his eagerness to continue. He didn’t have much of a chance to actually _suck_ _it_ before the man’s grip intensified on the base of his skull and he gave a final, brutal thrust. With a ragged cry, Dean spurted into Cas’ mouth; breathing hard and holding the angel’s head firmly in place. Fascinated, Castiel caressed the throbbing phallus with his tongue as it pumped semen down his throat. Dean’s cum threatened to be swept away, but Cas caught this flavor as well-swishing it over his taste buds to savor it greedily.

Dean trembled violently, panting with one hand locked in place. The other dropped to clutch shakily at Cas’ shoulder for stability. They remained in this position for several seconds as the hunter caught his breath and the angel continued to wash Dean’s twitching shaft. He might never be allowed at his side again, so every drop he could wring from Dean was something to be cherished. The realization of what he feared most coming to pass dropped like a stone in his stomach as the man pulled out of Castiel’s mouth with a shuddering sigh. The worry impeded Cas’ lust, draining some of the blood from his aching stiffness. Perhaps Dean sensed it. He reached down and took hold of the angel by his sleeved forearms. Well, at least he wasn’t angry. Not yet, anyway.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey, Cas, look at me.” But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look into the eyes he loved so dearly only to see the rejection, the repulsion and whatever other terrible emotions would be present. “Please, Castiel.”  Dean lifted his chin up, knuckle grazing over drying tear trails but Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“I’ll go.”  “Fuck me.”

They both spoke at once and answered the same.

“What?” “What?! _No_! Look at me, dammit!” Dean grasped Cas’ cheeks and he finally did, not quite willing to trust what he’d just heard.

“Don’t go don’t ever…” he trailed off, shaking his head. The angel saw nothing he was expecting in Dean’s almost pleading expression. Only want and trust and something he didn’t dare give a name to-should he be _that_ hopelessly mistaken. A hint of the anger flared up as he pulled Cas in so that their noses were touching.

“Don’t you _dare_ leave me. Not now, not…” He clenched his jaw as fear began to creep in around the edges of his shrunken irises.

Before he could respond, Dean was kissing him again. It was softer than before, tender and deep with a similar yet different urgency. As he licked the remnants of his spent seed from Castiel’s gums, the angel’s heart felt like it had received the signal it had been waiting for to start up again. The blood rushed so suddenly through his veins to refill his half-inflated erection that he almost felt nauseous. Almost. On queue Dean’s hand slipped from his face and dropped to rub Castiel’s crotch again. He broke off to gasp as the sensation jolted through him, reawakening that primal presence that had nested in his body.

“You don’t,” He swallowed hard, nuzzling his head against the side of Dean’s. “You don’t regre…mmmnn…” The hunter nipped at the point just below his ear as he squeezed his cock.

“The only thing I regret is not screwing your brains out every second of every day since you dragged me outta Hell.” He understood the colloquialism well enough. Dean bit down harder before he pulled back and fixed Cas with a fiery glint. “I mean it. _Fuck me_.” His other hand left Castiel’s cheek and reached for the angel’s hand. “And don’t _leave_ after,” he steered it around his hips and placed Cas’ hand on his exposed backside.

“ _Swear_ you won’t leave after.” The muscles in his groin constricted more, causing Cas to bite the inside of his cheek, drawing blood and stifling another whimper. Whether it was from the feel of tender, blazing flesh under his fingertips or the emotion that broke Dean’s voice on the ‘ _swear_ ’ he wasn’t certain.

As the angel began to curiously fondle Dean’s base ass, the image of the white garter flashed through his mind. The silken material that hugged his upper thigh, accentuating the compact musculature as Dean had tensed at his arrival. The white lace that floated over the sensitive skin there and its’ shadow that dappled the lower area; the upper simply hovering over his pubic mound. It had been so feminine and out of place that Cas had almost wondered if it had gotten there by accident.

Now, as the other pressed his re-hardening length into Cas’ achingly solid one with a heady murmur, he had to re-evaluate the situation.

“Dean, do you enjoy sexual subjugation?” It came out as a low rasp that sent a tremor through the hunter’s entire body. He laughed weakly into Cas’ shoulder as he leaned in, bringing them closer and slipping his hands into the confines of the angel’s shirt to pet his bare sternum.

“Yeah, you could say tha- _aaaa_ shit yeah.”Cas had finally returned one of the many bites to the neck that Dean had peppered his flesh with.

When he pulled back, saliva shone in the grooves left by his teeth. There was a steady roaring in his ears that was becoming impossible to stifle. A demand from within that howled in approval when Cas’ questing fingers slipped between Dean’s buttocks and rubbed at his entrance. He cried out, clawing into Castiel’s skin.

“God- _sorry_ -Cas, please, just…” He was probably supposed to use lubrication for this, but his index finger slid in with little resistance up to the second joint. “Uuhhh _yeeeeees_ ….” Then up to the knuckle.

The hot snugness around his digit made Cas’ mouth drop open in amazement; his cock pulsating with envy as he stroked the unbelievably soft inner tissue. Fascinated, he slotted his middle finger into place, firmly pressing it in to join the first one. Dean groaned and rocked back into his touch, frenziedly scratching at the angel’s chest. While inexperienced in it, Castiel knew that anal sex required considerable lubrication _as well as_ stretching of the sphincter. However, as Dean continued to meet his experimentation with such enthusiasm, the heat between them and around Cas’ extremity increased.  The thing inside his gut bellowed savagely, smashing through the crumbling barriers containing it at last.

He withdrew, ignoring the momentary whimper of disappointment from the human that quickly became “Yes, yes, oh _fuck_ _yes_!” when Dean realized what Cas was doing. He spun the hunter around, who just barely managed to slam the door of the Impala shut. Dean gripped onto the metal handle and splayed the fingers of his other hand out across the window as he widened his stance. Castiel almost tore his pants off in his haste to remove them. They pooled around his ankles, but it was enough. Gathering up as much saliva as he could muster, Cas spat into his open palm and spread it clumsily over himself and Dean, who was still blathering feverishly.

“I swear,” he growled, pulling back foreskin to rub his over-sensitized head against Dean’s hole. “I’ll never leave you, Dean.”

“ _Good_.” He grunted as Cas prodded him awkwardly.

For a beat, it seemed as if entry would have to wait until the angel could work him wider. Then Dean gulped and exhaled, his reflection’s features softening as he relaxed himself more and Cas felt him opening up.

The notes that escaped both of them merged into a harmony of gasping and swearing as Cas’ head began to nudge its’ way past the compact folds of muscle. Dean shivered uncontrollably, uttering a mess of barely intelligible gibberish that the angel was distantly aware of over the pounding in his ears. It took more control than Cas even knew he possessed to ease himself in instead of ramming through the protesting tightness. He wanted to terribly; the astonishing pressure was tenfold what April had been. And it was _Dean_ —scraping at his beloved vehicle with blunted nails and making noises Castiel had never dreamed he would be privileged enough to hear, let alone instigate. He had to be careful, he had to be gentle. He couldn’t just-

In a rush, he was swallowed up to the shaft and Cas’ vision blacked out again, Dean’s cry of “ _Finally_!” distorting through his volatile perception. The angel gaped wordlessly, spluttering and boring into Dean’s pelvis so forcefully that he would have fractured the bones if the man hadn’t called out to him

“You’re gonna snap me in half, Cas!” He blinked, casting down at the darkening welts forming beneath his vice grip. He was seconds away from mangling Dean’s terrifyingly fragile frame. Releasing him with a shudder, he sighed

“S-sorry..” Castiel screwed his eyes shut, bawling his fists. He was determined not to break the only person he’d willingly fall for.

“S’alright,” Dean managed, and Cas nearly bit a hole through his cheek when the man shifted his angle ever so slightly and tensed around him even more, somehow. “Just- _nngh_ -just count to five or something.” Castiel nodded, driving the numbers from his parched lips. He couldn’t actually form them inside his head. Dean laughed weakly and he convulsed around Cas again.

“What language was that?” Swallowing dryly, Cas cracked his lids to see Dean twisted around to smirk at him.

“A…a mixture, I think,” He shut them again, fiercely trying to concentrate but the counting hadn’t been very effective. “Umm..Babylonian, Cantonese, Middle English and others,” his body hadn’t stopped demanding action and the last of his restraint was dissolving. “I can’t-I can’t remember.” Dean hmmmed amusedly and- _fuck_ indeed-clenched around him again. It was no use; he was being driven to the brink of insanity.

“Dean, I can’t—aaah _fuck_!”  Somehow, he forced himself to still as Dean beamed back at him. “I’m going to hurt you like this!” His tone broke with the stifled urgency and dejected irritation crashing through him.

They were stuck at an impasse and it felt as if making _any_ move would be fatal to his human’s health. A spark flashed through Dean’s glossed eyes as he relinquished his clasp on the handle, reaching over to roll his right sleeve up to the shoulder. Cas could see the raised imprint left by his own hand in the dim light of the quarter moon as it began to ascend the inky sky.

“Here,” Dean muttered. “hold me here, and it’ll-uh, _shit_ -it’ll ground you enough so we can _finally_ do this.” It was the best plan either of their oxygen-depleted brains could come up with, so Castiel went for it. Of course he had to bend forward and consequently push deeper into Dean in order to reach his arm, which had them both panting and cursing once more.

“ _Deeean_!” he whined, the name flowing from his lips like a prayer as his trembling hand closed around the place he had first touched the man; lifetimes ago, it seemed.

“It’s ok, we can do this.” The hunter groaned, trying to readjust his posture without affecting the angel too much. He turned his head away from Castiel, unkinking his neck from the inconvenient angle.

Cas caressed the unique scar fondly, honing in on the tactile sensation of the seared flesh he had been unable (or perhaps unwilling) to heal properly. Flashes of Dean laughing with him, yelling at him, holding back tears from him, praying to him, telling him he needed him, stabbing him all darted through his memory. The recollections halted on Dean kissing him and telling him to _fuck me_ because it was the closest he could come to telling Castiel that he loved him. That was probably hopeful conjecture, but it didn’t matter. He drew the strength he needed from the depths of their connection. He could do this. He _would_ do this.

“See?” He bucked back into Castiel, who sunk his nails into Dean’s arm as he slid further in. “I’m tougher than I look.” Dean took a shaky breath and pulled forward slightly, only to return with a deeper thrust backwards.

He did it again with a low grunt and the realization that Dean Winchester-the man he loved-was fucking himself on Castiel’s cock set everything back in motion. Flexing his grip on Dean’s arm and bringing his other hand up to rest tentatively over the small of his back, Cas rutted out. Dean uttered his encouragement and Cas repeated the motion. Again, and again. The angel was half-way inside of Dean and the warmth from inside the other was licking through Cas’ entire being. Everything-his vessel, his grace, the very concept of his individual consciousness-was blazing with insurmountable desire.

“ _Caaaaaas_ , nngh…” He was becoming aware of the slick noises that fed his hunger for the earthly body his was inside of. Dean started to match his thrusts and together their disconnected movements began to flow into a sort of rhythm.

This deep inside of Dean, the primal darkness that called itself _domination_ reveled in the glory of being served by angel and human alike. His vessel had been in control of his consciousness for longer than Castiel had recognized. The passionate momentum produced enough lubrication between the two of them that Cas was able to insert himself fully. When he did, Dean inhaled sharply, pushing himself back on the tips of his fingers off the glass. Being fully sheathed inside of him was indescribably sublime. Castiel felt an uninhibited smile of jubilation split across his face. Dean reached back to swipe at him until he was able to get ahold of the angel’s lower back to pull himself up.

“Come ‘ere.” He whispered as Cas brought his other arm up to twine around Dean’s torso.

The t-shirt was damp and his heart hammered erratically as he brought his arm up around the back of Castiel’s neck to pull him into a kiss. It was difficult but workable. As they broke apart after a brief clashing of tongues, Dean’s free hand snaked down to stroke himself. Puffs of breath warmed over the edge of Cas’ mandible as Dean held onto him like his life depended on it.

“The hood,” his words hitched over the dryness in his throat. “Switch positions,” he panted. “Need to see you.” The angel murmured in agreement and ignored the cry of anguish he felt at being separated when he pulled out of Dean with a wet popping sound.

Not bothering to wait, he scooped Dean up, switching his orientation and depositing him on the Impala’s hood in one deft action. The metal creaked at the sudden impact. For once Dean didn’t seem to mind the ease with which Cas could lift him or the less than preferential treatment of his Baby. Judging by his previous comment about subjugation, he may have actually enjoyed the roughness. And judging by the course of the evening thus far, his car seemed to be the least of his concerns for once.

The moon was to Dean’s back and illuminated Castiel’s face to the human, while the angel’s vision compensated for the lack of proper lighting as easily as if it were daytime. Dean’s features were a wrecked mask of lust; lips chapped, gnawed and bleeding while a pink flush bloomed under his freckled cheeks. His eyes were clouded and shining simultaneously. There were uninterrupted trails of dried saline; one ceasing at the jawline while the other cascaded all the way down his throat, disappearing under his stained collar. Cas wasn’t sure if they were from the same tears Dean had shed as he had yelled at him earlier. He cradled the back of Dean’s skull, fingers spreading out into his clipped hair as he peered up into curiously contradictory eyes. Glancing down briefly to frown as he tried to figure out the correct arrangement, he lifted the other’s legs and spread them apart. Hugging his limbs in towards his chest and shifting his testicles to the side, Dean scooted forward carefully. There, that would work. And it did- _beautifully_ -as Cas was able to re-enter with minimal effort.

“ _Dean_ ,” he inclined his head as the human purred delightedly, rubbing his chin on the angel’s crown. “You feel so…” Castiel’s vocabulary was so horrifically stunted at present that all the eloquent adjectives he usually associated with Dean were hopelessly beyond his grasp. “ _Divine_.”

The man huffed, quivering as he lowered his arms around Cas’ neck and shoulders. The angel felt the exhalation ripple down into Dean’s muscles as they undulated around him and he reached up drunkenly to clasp at the mark he had left. From this direction, the overlay of the prints was flawless.

“You stole my line, _assbutt_.” Cas let out a bark of strained laughter that sounded mad even to his own ears. Perhaps he had gone mad, and this entire experience was a crazed fabrication brought about by any number of grim scenarios. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Hey,” Dean pulled away and scooped Castiel’s chin up with a crooked finger. “Wherever you are, come back.” His other hand came to mirror Cas’ as it coiled around the base of the angel’s head.

Castiel nodded and met Dean’s gaze intently, deciding to cease his search for words. There had never been much use for them between the two anyways.  His arms dropped to Dean’s sides as he fastened onto his hips once more and resumed their fornication. Dean wrapped his legs around Cas’ back. The man leered wickedly down at him as he captured the angel’s face again, watching him as if it was a matter of great importance. Cas felt mildly self-conscious about whatever expressions he was making, but ultimately didn’t care.

Staring up into Dean’s sex-crazed features as he pounded into his most sacred orifice was bringing him perilously close to climax. The fact that the other had taken to jerking himself off while staring unblinkingly at Cas wasn’t helping. Part of him never wanted this to end, but his limit (albeit incredibly impressive) was rapidly approaching.

“Cum in me.” Dean snarled, brows furrowed and glistening with sweat. “ _So_ _close_ but I need you to cum in me!” Castiel grit his teeth and nodded once, past the point of verbal communication.

He railed into Dean with a ferocity barely kept in check, eyes glued to the human’s slick cock as he fisted it furiously in-between them. Dean let out a pained grunt that climbed to a whimper drenched in arousal and ended with Castiel’s full name. It was too much and Cas came with a harsh cry as he pumped into the hunter, filling him with his love even as the world around them burnt to ashes. Somewhere in the distance, he felt Dean spasming around him as his ejaculation gushed out across Cas’ front. It wet his shirt and skin as Dean’s legs shook behind him and his grip gouged into the angel’s shoulder.

Blasphemous as it was, the closest the angel could remember to feeling this enraptured had been when God himself had lovingly stroked each of his faces and given him his name and purpose. He fell into Dean, the thundering of his mortal heart drifting in and out of Castiel’s focus as the human slumped over his back, gasping for air. They trembled against each other in the Summer night for what may have been seconds, minutes or small eternities.

Eventually, Dean hauled himself upright, letting his liquefied legs fall from Cas with a resounding thump as they smacked against the car’s frame. The sound jostled the angel from his stupor and with tremendous effort he forced himself off of Dean, pulling out as the man murmured weakly above him. Staggering and swaying, Castiel was grateful as Dean caught and held him steady. When he was quite sure that the angel could stand for himself, the hunter released him and tumbled backwards onto the Impala. He clapped a hand feebly on the spot beside him in invitation.

“Is it wise to…” Cas panted, practically bowing over onto the chassis. “add that much weight…onto the hood?” Dean chuckled appreciatively.

“Gofer it, man.” his words were badly slurred. “Newer carz,” he swallowed with a click. “will buckle fruma butterfly,” he scrubbed a hand over his face as his head flopped to the side weightlessly. “but Baby’z solid asa rock.” It was true. The vehicle had suffered almost as much physical damage as its’ owner and passengers had and was just as deceitfully resilient.

Precariously, Cas heaved himself up and collapsed onto his stomach next to Dean. It was ridiculous how short-winded and weakened he felt, but there was also a wondrous sensation of peace that permeated the space between the pair.  Pair…were they a pair? As if in answer, Dean sluggishly threw an arm over Cas. He let his head drop off from his forearm to study his friend. The expression of immense happiness on Dean’s face stunned him. Whatever he was going to ask flitted away, unimportant and forgotten.

“’Nyone ever tellu you’ve got the face of an angel?” They both snorted, Dean choking on his laughter and propping himself up on an elbow to cough his airway clear. “Ahhhh shit.” His head fell back and his lips parted in a silent continuation of mirth. Cas watched him affectionately, unable to keep from returning the open smile. “Ahhh but seriously though,” Dean tilted his head back up, leaning it heavily against his shoulder and rapping his nails on the hood. “Yer all…” he blushed a little, averting his eyes to the hand he was supporting himself with. “I dunno,” he brought his attention back to the angel, squinting in reflection. “ _Glowy_.” Cas tentatively reached up to stroke Dean’s jaw and was overjoyed when he leaned into the touch.

“I feel _glowy_.” That made Dean laugh again, and Castiel wished he could look this happy all the time.

“Yeah…” He examined Cas a bit more sincerely, wondrous bliss still alight in his eyes. He turned to plant a soft kiss on the angel’s palm. “How long, Cas?” he whispered, tickling the skin there.

“I haven’t measured, but I’m guessing about six-and-a-half inches give or take?” Dean snorted again and Cas’ chest swelled with pride.

“I’d say _give_ judging from the fact that it feels like I’m gonna be bound to a wheelchair for a coupla days.” He shook his head, grinning hugely. “Shit, I’ve created a monster!” He glanced at the angel. “That’s a-“

“A figure of speech. Yes I know, Dean.” Cas brushed his thumb up and down the light stubble covering Dean’s cheeks. He closed his eyes, nuzzling into Castiel’s palm.

“Before Purgatory, I’m _certain_.” He murmured, sighing contentedly. “Maybe even before I moved in with Lisa?” He opened them as the angel chewed his lower lip, still pondering the question. “Jesus, Cas, was it before that whole mess?”

“I honestly don’t know.” He sighed back, memorizing the way that Dean’s face looked in these surreal moments. His premature aging was smoothed out and he looked younger than Castiel had ever seen him. “I’ve asked myself that many times,” he shrugged Dean’s arm off, grunting as he hoisted himself up into a seated position.  “and I’m not certain of the answer.” They huddled in towards each other; Cas crossing his legs while Dean coiled one of his around the angel and stretched the other out with his knee bent and foot resting on the metal surface.

“Because I’ve always felt…” Castiel slanted his head and considered the human. “This inexplicable pull towards you.” He intoned softly as he rubbed his head against Dean’s temple. “It could be that I was not consciously aware of it happening.” Inhaling nervously, he repeated the gesture. “But most likely, it was…” He took another uncertain breath, not sure of why this felt so difficult to say. “The uh, the moment when you reached for my grace.”  Dean pulled back to regard Castiel with puzzlement. He probably didn’t remember…

“I’ve omitted that detail from you.” Dean’s visage cleared just as quickly and a hint of guilt rose to the surface.

“Oh, that.” His hand rose up the angel’s back, lingering between his shoulder blades. “I’ve had flashbacks-dreams maybe-I don’t know.” he started to rub small circles there. “I was just stupid about it for a long time, but I remember, Cas.” He nosed at the spot above the angel’s ear. “and I’ve never stopped reaching for you.” He purred, sending tiny electrical charges along the sensitive skin of Castiel’s scalp.

The event he assumed that Dean was unaware of had happened in Hell. Yes, the angel had been the one to raise him from Perdition, but it had been the Righteous Man who had found the Seraph first.

_The overpowering scent of goodness had wafted across the Sea of Fire, calling out to Dean’s soul. He had torn himself half to pieces in the struggle to break free from Alistair; if only for long enough to join the hunt once more. Whatever awaited him once his Master caught up was of little consequence. The desire to feel that purity bleeding between his canines had been the only thing that had mattered._

_Separated from his garrison and exhausted from the never-ending tide of the siege, the angel had foreseen the end for himself. Cutting down foe after infernal foe, he had been ready to die if it bought his siblings more time to locate their goal. He had turned to the next damned soul that had cried out as it charged him, when one comparable yet strangely different had shoved it out of the way. The force twisted in upon itself like a dying star had ripped the other soul to shreds with alarming speed and ferocity. It had bellowed triumphantly, launching itself at the angel and tearing a chunk of his grace away._

_Dean had been recognizable as a denizen of the Pit, but when he had swallowed that piece of Castiel, he had become brilliantly illuminate; screeching in agony as the grace attempted to scour him clean from within. Barely holding himself together, the angel registered that this was the soul they were seeking. He just had to find a way to signal the others before his own existence burnt out.  In his first moment of clarity in decades, Dean had seen Castiel’s dying form, wrecked and leaking profusely from the place he had maimed him._

_With a similarly excruciating scream, Dean had reached inside himself and somehow_ (even now the angel had only vague theories of how it had been possible) _torn a piece of his own soul away, suffusing it over the raw wound. Castiel had screamed too, grasping onto Dean’s arm as the impossible cauterization had occurred. And carrying a piece of the other inside of him, the pair had overcome the darkness and left the Pit to seethe and roil furiously behind them_.

Now, as that same man took his face in his hands and lovingly kissed Castiel again and again, he fought to keep the emotion from flooding his being. It was so difficult, in the face of all they had gone through-especially together. And if there was one thing he knew about sex, it was that sobbing afterwards was definitely a ‘turn-off’. Cas couldn’t stop his body from trembling, however and Dean pulled back to regard him with concern.

“What is it?” The angel smiled through the storm inside and pulled Dean back, kissing his chastely yet reverently while fighting the urge to laugh hysterically.

“I’m just so glad you found me.” Cas squeezed Dean’s thigh, sending out a silent vow to God (wherever he was) that he would, in fact, _never_ leave the soul he was bound to.

“What can I say? I’ve got excellent taste.” Dean beamed at him, wrapping him in an embrace so snug that it eventually became impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Only when the phone inside the cab started blaring a tinny version of _You Shook Me All Night Long_ did Dean let him go. He sighed exaggeratedly.

“Looks like _Princess_ needs a ride after all.” He hopped off the hood, wincing as he extended a hand to Castiel. “Oh yeah, definitely gonna need a wheelchair.” Cas blushed, averting the smirk as Dean helped him to his feet.

“That’s an odd ringtone to set for Sam.” Dean coughed as they stooped over to gather their clothing from the ground.

“I never bothered to _individualize_ them, but I guess that one gets to be your’s now.” He winked at the angel as he straightened up, pulling his jeans back on. Cas grinned at him as he followed suit.

“It is only appropriate after all.” Dean swooped in for a quick peck and smacked Castiel’s ass.

“Don’t think I won’t be returning the favor.” He nipped at the angel’s lower lip before ducking inside to pick up the phone as it began to ring for a second time.

Cas watched him as he answered casually, evading Sam’s line of questioning with multiple lewd insinuations about his brother and the aforementioned librarian that had been so taken with him. Dean peered up at him, half-listening to Sam’s unconvincing answers and responding distractedly. They stared at each other as they had many times before, only now the unspoken emotions didn’t burden either of them. He didn’t know what awaited them in the future as Dean concluded the call. He hung up, pointing the phone at Cas.

“Remember, you swore a _sacred_ vow.” Trying (and failing) to retain some dignity in his countenance, Castiel beamed back

“I did.” For a moment, neither said anything. Then Dean tossed the phone carelessly into the car and began to lower himself into the driver’s seat with caution.

“Right, cuz this won’t be hella obvious.” He grumbled, unable to conceal the smile that had returned to brighten his features. He closed the door as Castiel crossed to the other side, sliding into the passenger seat. Dean turned the key and grinned at the angel. “Ready?” Cas’ heart thrummed inside his chest along with the vibrations of the engine.

“For wherever the road leads.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title, as well as theme, is taken from _Howl_ by Florence + The Machine.
> 
> Beta'd by the fabulous [irrelephanthumor](http://archiveofourown.org/users/irrelephanthumour), who had the patience to wade through this swamp of sterotypically corny smut.
> 
> Started this story in February, chipped away at it through four months of personal drama, got it beta'd and voila! This story was a absolute beast to birth. And I apologize for all the lines worthy of Becky Rosen's writing style.
> 
> Comments are devoured and constructive ones are savored with savage glee :}
> 
> Thanks for reading! Was it worth it?


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